


Thickness of Blood

by Simply0Suki



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Parentlock, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply0Suki/pseuds/Simply0Suki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood is thicker than water. </p><p>But sometimes blood lies even betrays or abandons. It can be hard to find trust again, to rebuild after pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Have Dinner

One year and three hundred and forty nine days.

Six hundred and sixty eight days since Sherlock had last been in 221b Baker Street. He wasn't one for sentiment or dwelling on the past but as he stood in the cool May air looking from his hotel window at the dark sky he couldn't help but miss his days with John. Most of his work was done. Yet two targets still remained before it was safe to even consider returning to his old life. He had severed all ties with everyone to eliminate as much risk as possible. He hadn't even told John what had happened to him. For a while he had watched him from a distance but the pain was too much for even him so he stopped his casual walks past his old flat.

In this strange mood of reflection his eyes were drawn to the desk standing in the corner, his thoughts drifting to the unopened envelope he knew lay within.

Last Christmas Sherlock had returned to his room to find a cream colored envelope with a red seal pushed under his door. The front simply read:  
 _If you ever need company I can do dinner_  
He had put it in his desk knowing exactly who it was from with no intention of ever opening it.

Now pained with a loneliness he could not understand Sherlock opened the drawer and held the letter once again. If he was going to survive his mission and make the pain he had caused John worth it he needed a distraction if only for tonight.

With care he broke the seal and removed the card. It was light pink and simply had a phone number written on it.

Sherlock picked up the phone he had bought after his faked death and sent the text that admitted his human weakness and need for interaction.

_I can do dinner tonight -SH_

As always Irene took no hesitation with her reply.

_Chinese? -IA_

_Mind the door handle -SH_

_Of course. Be over in half an hour -IA_


	2. Only Human

A knock on the door and Sherlock found himself meeting the first familiar face in ages. Irene had on a long white coat her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"You finally gave in" She walked into the room and set the bag with takeout on the small table before taking off her coat to reveal a black and red dress. Sherlock let the door shut behind her but remained back from Irene studying her as of he was unsure how he felt about their meeting. Irene went about removing the food containers from the bag. "Are you going to join me or not?"

Sherlock took a seat in one of the two chairs and leaned back still watching her. Irene took a seat opposite him and handed him a set of chopsticks. "Finally gave in?" She teased with a small smile.

Sherlock remained emotionless as he opened his food. "You're tired of being alone" He met her gaze as he spoke for the first time, making an observation instead of answering her question.

"Never any light talk with you is there" Irene gave a weak smile knowing she was too tired to care about keeping him from seeing right through her. "It's rough hiding all the time though I do thank you for what you did. I suppose I'm simply glad you're getting a taste of running form everyone you care about."

"Caring is a weakness" They had both begun to eat though Sherlock was more pushing the food around than actually eating. 

"Yet we are human and so it carries on. After all I'm only here because you miss John" 

Sherlock shot her a glare reminded again of the mixed feeling he had towards the woman who had been able to beat him. Both brilliant and at the same time the only one who could read him when he least expected it. "I suppose I had become too comfortable with my way of life."

"The brilliant Sherlock demoted to missing his simple routine of every day life." Irene was clearly enjoying feeling like she had the upper-hand on Sherlock's emotions.

"And the stunning Adler reduced to stalking a dead man for lack of company"

"We're not that different you know. Both brilliant, stunning and simply running for our lives."

Sherlock had clearly given up on pretending to eat and leaned back in his chair again his hands together under his chin. "And here I thought agreeing to dinner would lift my spirits yet I'm simply reminded of how dull human company truly is. Thank you"

"Now now Sherlock we've only just begun the night. Though if you're so eager to go back to your moping I suppose I could leave you too it." She leaned forward on the table her one hand fiddling with a necklace around her neck. 

"Now that you suggest it I do quite think we're done here"

"You don't really mean that do you? Another night to spend thinking about the life you can no longer have. The cases going unsolved as Lestrade fumbles around. And then there's your brother whom you can no longer pester." Irene had stood why she spoke an made her way over to Sherlock's side of the table. "You can't honestly look me in the eyes and say you're fine with another night alone." They held eachother's gaze for a moment. Irene bent down and kissed Sherlock's lips. He didn't respond neither accepting nor pushing her away. Irene pulled back a smile playing on her lips. "How long I've wanted to do that"

"Still the dominatrix as always" Sherlock stroked her wrist gently, suggesting back to when years ago he had taken her pulse to solve the case. 

"And still the virgin" Irene replied sweetly. 

"Some things are set to never change" Sherlock still held her gaze, their hands holding each other's wrists.

"And yet some things do" Irene gently flipped over their clasped hands to where her fingers were resting on his vein. "elevated heat rate, pupils diluted. I'd say someone is more lonely than they're willing to admit" She pressed her lips to his again only this time Sherlock kissed her back. Slowly but still clearly letting her having her way. Sherlock stood up so he was looking slightly down at Irene when had a smirk on her face. 

"Just tonight. I need contact, to feel something again." Sherlock hated himself. He didn't want to but his body was aching for anything. 

"If you insist" Irene kissed him again eager to finally have permission for the great Sherlock Holmes. Both so lonely and desperate that they only had each other for company though they both knew they would later regret it.


	3. Mistake

Irene lay flat on her back on her hotel bed staring at the ceiling. She didn't know what to do. There was another mistake to add to the long list of poor choices since she had first met Mr. Holmes. 

She thought back to the morning she had woken up next to Sherlock Holmes in that hotel room. He had looked so peaceful sleeping, so innocent. She had brushed his messy curls aside and kissed him lightly. "Until next time Mr. Holmes" The night before had been excellent. Sure he had been inexperienced but he was a quick learner and she was an expert. Once she had slipped back into her dress and pulled on her coat she checked her hair quickly in the mirror before leaving Sherlock for all foreseeable future. Though she had hoped they would meet again some day.

The following week was when she had begun to notice something was wrong. She was abnormally exhausted and had to spend a day in her hotel room. Not that she had had much planned so she blamed it on too much stress over the past months. A few weeks later she was walking through the hotel lobby when she smelt a horrendous smell. She cringed and snapped at the lobby clerk for allowing such a horrid stench. When he commented that he could smell nothing but coffee she had brushed him off, mentally noting him as insane and proceeded with her day. Later that night she was sick and light headed whenever she stood and finally the pieces fell into place. A dominatrix's worst nightmare.

Irene was pregnant.

Now here she was lying on the bed with a pregnancy test confirming her guess sitting on the counter. Under normal circumstances an abortion would quickly take care of everything but as she was legally dead there wasn't much she could do. She knew it was Sherlock's. He was the only one she'd been with in the past two months. She debated contacting him. Would he help her? Would he care? She could seduce a doctor. It was easy enough what with their long hours and just wanting someone to help take their mind off everything.

* * * 

Irene tried desperately to do what she did best and manipulate someone to help her. She spent a few days finding the perfect candidate. He was in the perfect position to help her with an unnoticed abortion, married, working night shifts for extra money to please his wife though they often fought. He was seen at bars often sitting alone drowning in the misery of a midlife crisis. She had approached him subtly, spent weeks getting him to feel comfortable with her. She had gotten as far as to lure him to a hotel but at the last moment his conscience had come back and he had bolted saying he could never see her again. Irene had been devastated. It would take to long to get anyone else to trust her before she was clearly showing a baby bump.

* * * 

She had given up on abortion. The child would stay and be born into this cruel world. She didn't know if it would live, if she would be able to support it yet she knew if she went to the hospital they would both be dead. So here she was now lying with Kate ,her old assistant, sitting beside her. The only person she could turn too. She had been bed ridden for almost two weeks now, her life in Kate' hands. Irene didn't know what she'd have done without her.

Irene let out a sudden scream. Her water had broke. Kate squeezed her had. "Ready to be a mother?"

* * * 

Eleven agonizing hours later and Irene sat in her bed exhausted. Kate had done wonderfully. She had been trained in midwifery though they had had to do it the painful way without pain killers. Kate handed her a bundle wrapped in a yellow blanket.

"It's a boy." Kate gave a reassuring smile "Any idea what you'll name him?"

Irene took a moment to think. She didn't have any good names picked out. Her thoughts drifted to the father of the child in her arms. "Hamish. That's what he would have wanted to call him." She didn't know why but something about holding the small child in her arms that had come from her body made her hard defenses fall if only for the time being. 

"And what about your daughter?" Kate had picked up the second bundle of the bed and was now rocking the softly crying twin sister to Hamish. 

Irene thought of the Christmas she had first met Sherlock. When she had stopped by their home only briefly to drop off her phone for safe keeping. She had placed it behind a card. From John's sister. Why she felt compelled to name them after memories of John she didn't know. Perhaps she though if Sherlock ever did meet them she wanted him to know she knew what he held close to his heart. Perhaps she thought it would make Sherlock more open to taking them as a part of her had already convinced herself she wouldn't be fit for parenting. "Harriet"

"Harriet and Hamish Adler. Excellent names" 

Irene looked at the small face in her arms. She had just brought this innocent being into the world with no where to go. Both parent presumed dead by all and if she was going to be honest with herself, two parents who would never want children.


	4. It's Been Three Years - Sherlock

Sherlock looked down the scope of sniper in his hands. The cross hairs fell exactly in place on the man across the way in his forth floor room. There he sat at his desk, his back to the window, with no idea his life was about to end. One twitch of his finger and the man would fall and Sherlock would be free from his task. Two years and 348 days and he was finally ready to go home.

Sherlock squeezed the trigger and the man's head fell forward. It was over. The police would find him dead and after a little investigation they would cross the street and climb this building to find the sniper rifle. After a little simple research they would realize it belonged to the dead man. The police would stop there. They didn't really care who killed the man. They knew what he had done, the lives he had taken and they would be thankful to the mystery person who had rid the world of him.

Sherlock exited the building at the ground floor thankful for the gloves against the cool breeze. He turned up his collar with a new sense of hope as he thought of Baker Street.

"That's the last one then?"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks looking at the man leaning against a black limo and umbrella in hand.

"You didn't expect to fool your big brother with that little trick of yours did you?" Mycroft had a smirk of satisfaction on his face.

"Always such a pleasure to see you Mycroft" Sherlock said as his hands went to his pockets. Mycroft knew his brother well enough to know that meant he wasn't interested in talking.

"Yes I expected you wouldn't be up for a conversation." Mycroft never had really cared about his brother's petty tendencies. "I expect you'll be headed back to Baker Street for a happy reunion" he raised an eyebrow half mocking his younger brother. "I thought you might want to see this before you headed to your doctor." He held out his hand and a file folder was passed out from the window of the limo, presumingly by Anthea. Mycroft opened it and handed it to Sherlock.

"Get to point Mycroft" Sherlock briefly scanned the pages of pictures and names.

"You'd think a dead man would have all the time in the world. What you're looking at are the names of the remaining of Moriarty's followers"

"Ive never heard of these men before" Sherlock shut the folder and held in out to Mycroft who showed no sign of wanting it back. "I killed all of Moriarty's men, the threat is gone."

"Ah yes but these are the replacements. And there you are wrong, you have heard of one at least. Sebastien Moran."

"He didn't work for Moriarty."

"Ah but you see he does now. At least he follows his practices. Only a few more names and you can return to your mundane life."

"I won't do it, there will always be replacements it will never end." Sherlock held out the folder again.

"No brother dear you will do it. Keep the folder to remind you of the men still at large threatening to take away the few people you care for." Mycroft opened the door to his car and climbed in. "Do try and not get caught, I'd hate to have to call in any more favors for you."

Sherlock was left standing on the curb holding the folder as he watched his brother's limo drive away. The relief he had felt when he had watched that man drop dead only minutes ago was now completely gone. Replaced with the knowledge that his life would never truly be safe. There would always be replacements who wanted him dead and were set on terrorizing the world. 

He couldn't decide just then if he would follow Mycroft's request but he knew one thing for certain, he had to see John again if only from a distance. 

A few moments later and he was in a cab going where he hadn't been in ages. He would watch from the building across the street. It was under construction but the door was easily opened. There was a window on the second floor that looked directly into the sitting room of the flat he had once resided in. From the empty house he could hope to catch a glimpse of what he had left behind.

"Baker Street and do hurry"


	5. For Your Own Good

Sherlock stood his hands in his pockets completely motionless as he looked across the street from his spot in the empty house to his, no John's, flat across the road. When he had first been forced to leave he could be found here almost weekly but being so far from and yet so close to John was too painful and the visits had stopped. Now as he stood there he saw the familiar shape of John Watson pass across the window. His broad shoulders and same military cut how he longed to see him face to face again. Another shape passed by the window. This one too familiar. His eyes darted down to the street. He had been too occupied with thoughts of John that he had missed the long black car parked outside the flat. Those months of isolation hadn't been good for the consulting detective. Sherlock's hands clenched as the figure passed by the window again. His brother in Baker Street could mean nothing good. 

He wanted more than anything to run across the street and barge in but that was not the reunion he had had in mind. Not that he had anything planned or was one for dramatics but he'd rather no have is arch enemy in the room. And so he was left waiting patiently. John's hands were in fists now too. He wasn't yelling but it was the typical John Watson quite anger where one worried the military side might get the better of him at any second. Sherlock smirked, at least Mycroft was having a difficult time convincing John of whatever he had planned. A short while later and Mycroft was leaving the flat and entering the car but John was right behind him. His brow was knit in concentrated anger though he seemed to be going along with whatever Mycroft had wanted for the moment. 

The frozen statue of Sherlock lept into action as he hurried down the stairs and onto the street where he searched for a cab. One came a few minutes later and he directed it to go in the direction his brother had left. He mapped in his head possible routes in the area and barked frantically at the driver to hurry in the hopes that they could catch up or at least meet up but it soon become evident there were too many variables to consider in this area. After a while of frustrating driving in circles Sherlock directed the cab to his brother's favorite spot for meetings, The Diogenes Club.

The cab pulled up and Sherlock was out in a flash. As he walked through the building he cautiously kept an eye out for John and his brother. An old man sat reading with his hat on the table beside him. Sherlock casually picked it up as he walked and pulled it to cover the hair he knew John would recognize. It wasn't much of a disguise but with the hat and the fact he wasn't wearing the normal coat, this one a long grey one, he could hope it would be enough should they run into each other. He reached his brother's office, the door was open a crack. Standing to the side he could see his brother leaning back on his desk with John sitting in a chair in front of him holding a folder though Sherlock couldn't' see the contents. 

Mycroft spoke, "It's for your own good John. It's time you moved one"

"Ah I see," John's voice sounded strained and irritated, "and this is you just speaking as a concerned party is it? Absolutely no personal benefit to you. I don't know what secret agenda you have planned now but coming to see me three years." His voice caught and his head turned slightly for a second before he continued, "three years after the fact. Three years without so much as a hello and now you want me to switch flats for my own good. Come on Mycroft." He closed the folder and stood as he held it out for the other man to take. "I don't know what you're planning but I don't want any part of it" 

"John honestly just think about this rationally for a moment" 

John turned and held up a hand as he walked towards the door. "I don't want to here it Mycroft. In fact." Nearly at the door he turned again to face Mycroft. "I never want to here from you again. Never send one of your bloody cars my way again." 

Sherlock had been so enthralled with being so close to John again and trying to figure out what Mycroft was up to that he almost forgot he was standing directly where John was heading. He turned to run but before he got very far he could hear the door open as John emerged into the hallway. In a panic he turned and grabbed the stack of books sitting on the desk he was just passing. In his hurry he grabbed too many and the top few fell. Not thinking straight he carefully knelt down to pick them up. Before he knew it there was another hand on the book he had grabbed. The familiar calloused hand of the army doctor he missed so much. He longed to drop the book and hold the hand in his own but he held it together and accepted the book being sure to keep his face hidden between the books and the hat.

He hadn't been so close to John in so long but his voice was as familiar as ever, "Here you go, do you need a hand with those?"

Sherlock changed his voice and accepted the book, "Thank you, no all good, good day." in a hurry he turned and walked down the hallway as fast as he could for fear he may loose control and turn back.

When he was a safe distance away he set the books down again and took off the stolen hat. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned and looked longing down the hallway where he had seen John. Just as he turned to leave he heard his name being called. His head whipped around but it was Mycroft waiting for him.

"Sherlock twice in one day. Must be a special occasion." 

Sherlock reluctantly walked down the hallway to meet his brother once again. 

"So how much did you hear?" 

"Enough." Sherlock met his brother's gaze. "You want John to switch flat's because you suppose if I think he's moved on I'll continue doing your dirty work for you. But I heard him, he's still not over it, his voice caught when he thought about my death."

"Yes the wounded soldier. But do you really think it's fair? He's surrounded himself with your memory, nothing has changed in the flat. Don't you think it's time he moved on and let go of the past." Mycroft tilted his head as if he was genuinely concerned for John's well being.

"As John so clearly pointed out you had three years to think of his well being. I'm done. You can find someone else to be your gun dog." Sherlock turned in a huff to leave the building.

"You're turning your back on your country Sherlock." Mycroft called after him.

"No Mycroft, I'm just turning my back on you."


	6. Reunion

This was it. Sherlock stood outside the door of Baker Street. The air was cool but he stood there for a moment thinking over what he was about to do. No he had to do this now, Mycroft had convinced him he had already waited too long. He knocked on the door.

Ms. Hudson answered. "Sherlock!"

He had hold her everything the day after his death. The one person who knew the truth because he couldn't bear to see her pain. Though she had known he still hadn't seen her since the day in the grave yard when he had said goodbye to her. Now she wrapped her arms around him and he held her close.

"Ms.Hudson, it's been too long"

Her eyes were wet with tears as she let go of him. "I do hope you're staying, John's upstairs. He's been having a dreadful time." She hugged him one more time before stepping mack.

"yes I think I have to." He looked up in the direction of the stairs, he had to do this.

John's voice came from the upstairs flat. "Who is it Ms Hudson?" 

She called back. "Visitor for you, I'm sending him up" 

John called again. "I'm not really up for any more visits today if you could come back tomorrow I'd appreciate it" 

Sherlock hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. But he had already made up his mind and so he walked the familiar path up. 

John heard the footsteps and kept his nose on the paper he was reading. "Sorry I've just had too many" He stopped mid sentence as he looked up and saw who was standing in his doorway. "Sherlock" It was a whisper as he stared at the man unable to believe that it was really him.

"Hello John" He eyes were locked on the other man's as he was unable to move from the doorway.

John stood up and took a few steps in the direction of the door before turning and heading into the kitchen. He took a moment and leaned his hands forward on the table just to catch his breath. Was he going insane? He Mycroft really messed with his brain this time. He returned to the living room where Sherlock had only moved a few steps further into the room, unsure himself of what to think. "It was you" John shook his head in disbelief. "In the Diogenes Club. I knew it was you but I told myself that was just because Mycroft had put you on my mind." 

"Yes it was"

"Three years Sherlock. Three bloody years"

"I know. I'm. I'm sorry"

"Where were you? Why didn't you tell me you were alive? Did you just give Ms. Hudson a heart attack? Or no did you tell her where you went, so she knew too." John was so conflicted, angry, confused, happy and mainly ticked off. "I've been here all that time. Do you not trust me?"

Sherlock took a step forward towards him his mouth opening as if he was going to say something but he was cut off as John mirrored his movement and took a step back his hand coming up in front of him. "No you stay away from me! You owe me an explanation and it better be a damn good one too!"

Sherlock just shook his head "I'm sorry" He moved forward faster than John could react and wrapped his arms around the other man in an embrace. John tensed only for a moment before relaxing, his head resting on the other man's shoulder as his eyes were wet with tears. "Three years I waited believing that it wasn't true." They stood together for what seemed like forever but also not nearly long enough before John pulled away. "Why now?"

Sherlock took a deep breath. "because I can't live without you any longer."

John just stood holding the other man's gaze, he looked so much older for the time they had been apart. "Never leave me again."

"Never again"


	7. "I Tried"

Irene did her best to raise her twins. At least she had Kate to help. They found a small flat which was better than living in hotels but it was still a struggle. All she had ever been was a dominatrix but she couldn't go back to that. Not with the dingy flat she had to call home and not to mention to two children living there. She worked small jobs but she was too smart to be doing them and always found herself quitting in frustration not long after being hired. What had her life become? 

Hamish and Harriet were three when Irene finally hit the last straw. In a moment of complete despair she looked at her two children sitting on the floor playing with some toys. She loved them, more than she had thought possible of herself but she had failed them. There wasn't enough money to support all of them and they were a burden she could no longer carry. One February day she caught sight of a news paper heading. 

**Holmes Does It Again**

She bought a paper and flipped to the article. 

_Sherlock Holmes with the help of his associate, John Watson, has solved the case yet again. This two and a half years after returning form the dead and the famous detective is well on his way to restoring the public's faith in him. Still refusing to provide a statement on what happened that day over five years ago at Bart's hospital his close friend John Watson simply states "What's in the past is in the past and it's time to move forward" Still no sign of the famous Moriarty but if the hero can return we can only fear the villain will be close to follow. For the time being Holmes busies himself with a case the blog of John Watson calls 'The songbird's cry' Last week police were alerted to the......_

Irene closed the paper not wanting to read anymore. Sherlock Holmes had reveled himself to the world while she was left hiding because of what he had done to her. She returned home and dressed up her kids in their coats and boots. They asked her where they were going but she simply told them they were going on a new adventure. She hailed them a cab and on the ride she wrote a note which she sealed into an envelope. They arrived at their destination and the three of them stepped out of the cab. She walked them up to the door before kneeling down in front of them. 

"This is a new adventure for you. There are people living here who are very smart. They're going to look after you and give you a better life than I can. I want you to know I love you very much and I'm sorry." She stood and kissed their foreheads in turn. "I'm so sorry." She wiped a tear from her eyes. "Here" She gave the letter to her son. "Look after eachother now and give this to whoever opens the door." She knocked on the door and walked to the cab. She gave one last look at them before climbing into the cab with a small reassuring smile. 

Just as the cab pulled away the door opened. Ms. Hudson looked at the two small children standing in front of eachother. "Hello. Are you here to sell something?" 

The small girl clung to her brother's hand who hesitated a moment before handing over the envelope to the strange woman. Ms. Hudson looked down at the front where it was simply written; Sherlock Holmes. Puzzled she brought he children inside from the cold. "Sherlock you better come look at this."

A moment later and Sherlock came down the stairs dressed in his blue robe. "What is it?"

Ms. Hudson handed over the letter still unsure what to make of the children. 

Sherlock inspected the paper and the writing. Irene Adler and written in a hurry most likely in a moving vehicle, this couldn't be good. He skimmed the letter quickly before stopping and rereading it carefully. He lowered the letter and looked at the children.

Mrs. Hudson was trying to get them to talk. "Where are you children from? Where are your parents? What are your names?" But they responded to none of her questions.

"They're mine" Sherlock was looking at them unsure what to do. He had never imagined that that nights so long ago would come back to haunt him. 

"Pardon?" Ms. Hudson just stared at Sherlock. 

"I'm their father. Hamish and Harriet Holmes"

"What are you going to do with children? How do you have children?" Ms. Hudson couldn't keep the disbelief from her voice. If there was anyone who shouldn't be left to care for another living thing it was Sherlock. He could barely remember to feed himself. 

"Yes come along children." keeping a neutral face he headed up the stairs to their flat. The twins looked at eachother before following him, their hands still holding eachothers. 

Sherlock entered the flat and flopped down onto the couch and picked up a book. 

"Umm Sherlock?" John looked from his spot in his chair at the two children standing in their doorway. "Why are there two kids in our flat?"

"Oh they're mine" He waved his hand absent mindedly. 

"Umm sorry you've lost me"

"While I was dead I got lonely and Irene was the only one there and I think you can deduce how two children came to be." He had put the book down on his chest and was looking at the children. "Are you just going to stand there?" he asked them. 

They looked at each other completely confused. The boy spoke for the first time. "Where's our mother. We want to go home."

"Oh she's no coming back. Afraid she doesn't want you anymore." Sherlock went back to his book

"Sherlock! That's not something you say to a child!" He stood and went over the children. "Hi I'm John Watson. Do you guys want something to eat?" He directed them towards the kitchen. He helped them out of their outerwear and was able to find some biscuits and milk before returning to the living room. "What are we going to do with them?"

Sherlock stood up and was fiddling with his violin. "Oh I don't know I'm sure we'll think of something."

"They're children Sherlock they require someone to look after them and you aren't exactly a model parent."

"I said we'll think of something. We'll talk about this later." He looked in the direction of the kitchen where the children were watching them talk. John followed his gaze and sighed, they had to talk but arguing in front of them wasn't going to get them anywhere. Sherlock brought his violin to his chin and began playing. 

That evening Ms. Hudson brought up a proper meal from her flat for the sake of the children. They still hardly spoke only to be polite with please and thank yous. John arranged his bed room which was the tidier of the two for the kids to sleep in. They hadn't brought any closes so they had on old shirt's of john's and crawled into his bed.


	8. We Can't Keep Them

John looked up from his computer and broke the silence in the room that had fallen since the twins had gone to sleep 4 hours earlier. "Are we going to talk about this?"

Sherlock sighed as he closed the book he was reading and set it on the arm of his chair to bring his hands together under his chin. " I don't understand what you're so worried about."

"Sherlock we can't have two children here. Your work just doesn't allow for it. This isn't exactly a child safe flat."

"I can see that but I could make an effort to make it more so. Besides they will learn soon enough not to touch my work." Sherlock honestly looked like he wasn't concerned that they wouldn't be hurt. For someone who appeared to see little competence in most of humanity he had strange faith in kids. 

"Oh yes I see so we'll wait until one of them accidentally eats a piece of bread treated with chemicals to test it's ability to ward of mold and then while they're doubled over in pain we'll pat their heads and say 'oh see now you know not to eat anything from our fridge." 

"John I can understand you're frightened of hurting them and that's why you've resorted to sarcasm but I can assure you we can find a way to manage." Sherlock stood and walked into the kitchen where he went about setting the kettle for a cup of tea. 

"You keep saying we'll manage." John stood and followed him into the kitchen, "Why should we be finding a way to accommodate them? We've just got back into our old routine and now you want to change everything for the sake of two kids you've only just met?"

"oh stop being over dramatic. They're not changing _everything._ Sure there will be minor inconveniences but we can manage." He gave a wave of his hand before turning to poor the water into two cups and prepare the tea.

"Sherlock please just think about it. I don't know what this is to you. Some sort of game? or puzzle? but we can't we simply can't. For their sake and ours."

"It's not a game it's moving forward in the necessary direction. Even I am capable of changing for necessary reasons." Sherlock handed John his mug prepared the way he knew he liked. "Look I even made you tea. See there's a first for everything." He gave a smug smile and walked past John into the living room where he went and stood by the window holding the mug between his hands to warm them as he looked outside. 

John followed him. "You'll get bored of them and then what?"

Sherlock turned with an irritated sigh. "I'm not going to become bored with my own children."

"Why does it matter to you so much? Why can't you just let someone more competent look after them."

"Because John." Sherlock paused his eyes glued on John's. For a moment John thought he looked almost wounded. "I know what it's like to be abandoned by both your parents. I know what it feels like to not be wanted by anyone. To not have a place in the world. I'm doing that to them"

They stood silently for a moment eyes locked before John dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry Sherlock I just"

Sherlock cut him off "I think that's enough John" 

"No it's not, because it's not the same we can't keep them just because"

"John" 

John looked up at him again and saw that his gaze was over his shoulder. He turned to see where he was looking and saw the small boy with the curly hair hiding at the edge of the doorway to the hallway. He muttered under his breath, "Jesus, sorry"

Sherlock walked past John and over to the boy. "Sorry if we woke you. Would you like a glass of water?" The small boy looked up at him and nodded his head. Sherlock led him to the kitchen where he brought down a glass and filled it at the tap. After the boy had it in his hands he put a hand on his small shoulder and led him back towards the stairs and up to John's room. The boy took a drink and handed the cup back to Sherlock who set it on the night table before pulling the covers up to the boy's chin. "goodnight then" he whispered before leaving the room. 

He returned to find John sitting in his chair. "Sherlock I'm sorry, I didn't know he was there"

"No it's alright. It's going to take some adjusting on all our parts." He sat opposite his friend. "You never asked what their names were."

"Sorry?"

"You never asked what the children's names were."

"Oh god you're right. I'm off to a horrible start already." He ran a hand over his face. What had he gotten himself into.

"Hamish and Harriet"

John chuckled looking at Sherlock thinking he was joking but his expression hadn't changed. "what? you're serious?"

"Yes entirely."

"Why on earth would Irene do that?"

"I think she knew the moment she found she was pregnant that she couldn't keep them. I don't even know why she had them but she did and here they are." His hands were under his chin once again. "I think she knew she would pass them on to me. She's one of the few people who can understand me and she knew there is only one person I truly care for so logically naming them to relate to him would give me a stronger attachment to them. She doesn't want to see them completely abandoned anymore than I do."

"They're honestly named because of...me?"

"Yes does that give you connection enough to them to feel a little more guilty about shipping them off?" 

"I don't....I don't want them to be abandoned but I'm trying to be logical. What about school and clothes and you're going to have to remember to feed them."

Sherlock chuckled, "Yes I'll remember to feed them and we have Ms. Hudson to help. You know she can't resist despite how many times she reminds us she's only the landlady."

"Oh god we're really doing this then? Raising two children from a tiny flat?"

"Yes I believe we are."


	9. Simply Mundane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling into the routine of dealing with children. 
> 
> Sorry I had to go back and change the ages for the children as they were too young for any plot lines I had planned.

The first week with the kids took a little getting used to. John and Sherlock were definitely not prepared for all the work that accompanied raising two six year olds. Thankfully Ms. Hudson was overjoyed to assist them. Papers on official guardians were to be sorted and the house made livable. Sherlock's experiments were a major problem for curious hands. For the first few days John had to lock off the entire kitchen while he forced Sherlock to deal with the mess. This usually ended with yelling or moping around on Sherlock's part only now John had the children to use an excuse for the moody man to watch the example he was setting. 

In an attempt to make up for his initial doubts towards the children John tried to make them eat meals as a family. Though since their kitchen was such a war zone this involved takeout while sitting around the coffee table. On the first full day in the house John came in with a pizza box and gave a smile to the two children who were sitting quietly on the floor playing with a few stuffed animals they had brought. They instantly stopped what little talking they had been doing as soon as they saw him enter the room. 

In an attempt to make it a little less awkward John tried to start a conversation. "Hope Sherlock wasn't doing anything crazy while I was out. Though I'm sure you two would be bright enough to sort it out." They just stared back at him blankly if not a little scared. "right", John turned back to the pizza disheartened about his failed attempt. Opening the box he took out a slice before sitting down on the couch. "Dig in" He motioned towards the pizza.

The two looked hesitantly at the food at first before Harriet slowly moved closer to the box. She grabbed a piece before sitting cross legged on the floor across from John. 

John gave a smile "Good isn't it?"

Harriet took a bite before nodding and go back at the piece a little more eager. It took Hamish a bit longer to warm up to the idea. Something about the events of the previous night were still bothering him. He felt out of place and just wanted to be back with his mother. 

"Sherlock" John called towards the kitchen. "Pizza, come eat something before you waste away."

A few moments later and Sherlock had appeared from the kitchen while pulling off rubber gloves. "Nearly done I think, gosh it's tedious work. Are you sure that fungus experiment can't stay out?" 

John simply rolled his eyes in response not bothering to waste the breath on a response. 

Taking a seat on the couch beside John he moved the goggles from his eyes to around his neck before taking a slice of pizza. "Better dig in Hamish before John eat the entire thing." He commented causally noting the boy's hesitation.

Hamish sat watching Sherlock for a minute still cautious. Once the two adults were engaged in a conversation he moved closer to his sister before taking a piece. 

Though they were talking Sherlock watched the boy from the corner of his eye. He didn't know why he felt so protective over him. He rarely cared for anyone or anything except perhaps John.

* * *  
A few weeks later and they had settled into routine. The flat was at least a little safer and the children's school was sorted out. They would have to transfer but luckily they were able to do it at the present even though it was mid term. John would drop them off in the morning before heading out to his work at a small clinic he had opened with a partner and Sherlock would pick them up when they were finished. For the first while this involved multiple alarms set on Sherlock's phone to remind him of the time and convince him to drag himself away from his work for a while.


End file.
